Wandering Swordsman |

The knight commander bowed deeply, his back trembling slightly, his voice hoarse as if grinding sand: "Yes... Your subordinate obeys."

As he left the council chamber, the night wind rushed in his face, and cold sweat had already soaked through his inner shirt, even the soles of his boots were wet.

He dared not turn around, feeling the gaze behind him like a knife, still hanging over his neck.

The hall doors closed, and the candlelight flickered red.

At this moment, only two people remained in the hall—Odin Kane and Jail Walker, the military commander of Northshire.

Jel was nearly sixty years old, with graying hair and beard, clad in dark silver scale armor, and his sword, though sheathed, exuded a chilling killing intent. He was Odin's most trusted veteran and the only one in the "Secret Army" who knew the truth.

Odin sat in the main seat, his gaze as sharp as a hawk's, and asked, word by word:

"How are the secret forces...prepared?"

The moment these words were spoken, the air seemed to freeze. The chirping of insects outside the window ceased abruptly, as if the heavens and earth themselves had held their breath.

Jer stepped forward, his right hand on his chest, his voice deep and precise, each word like an iron nail driven into wood:

"Your Grace, the Secret Army currently numbers 423,000 men, divided into five divisions: 120,000 heavily armored cavalry, all mounted on warhorses, capable of traveling 300 li a day, breaking through enemy lines like mowing down dry leaves; 150,000 elite infantry, armed with three-zhang-long spears and composite crossbows, skilled in mountain warfare, street fighting, and siege warfare; 80,000 swordsmen, selected from death row inmates and exiled warriors from six kingdoms, their blades only sheathed after drawing blood; 50,000 shield bearers, wielding massive black iron shields capable of withstanding a thousand arrows, specializing in protection and advance; and the 'Starlight Knights' order of 23,000 men, all top-tier fighters, directly under your command, capable of carrying out special missions such as decapitation, infiltration, and suppression."

He paused, then added, "All soldiers are registered under false names, and their rations and pay are paid from the Northern Palace's private treasury; they are not registered in the Imperial Army. An intelligence network of the six nations has also been established, and no one knows of its existence."

Odin narrowed his eyes slightly, his silver hair gleaming coldly in the candlelight. He paused for a moment, then asked, "What is the movement of the Imperial Family...?"

A cold smile crept across Jell's lips: "Since you overruled all opposition and helped the Third Prince ascend the throne, he has been mediocre and incompetent, indulging in wine and women all day long, leaving state affairs entirely to eunuchs. Now the empire is beset by internal and external troubles, public resentment is rising, and the morale of the army is wavering. As long as you, Duke, give the order—" He lowered his voice even further, almost whispering, "—you can easily take his place. The ministers have already secretly sided with you, just waiting for the right opportunity."

Upon hearing this, Odin's lips slowly curved into a smile, but it was devoid of any warmth, instead appearing as cold as the moon shining on frost.

He waved his hand casually, yet with an undeniable air of authority: "Now... is not the time."

He rose and walked to the window, gazing at the distant skyline towards the capital. His voice was deep and resonant, like thunder rumbling from the earth: "What I want has never been a throne." He paused, a near-divine glint in his eyes. "What I want is—that when the world kneels in worship, no one dares to look me in the eye."

Jer lowered his head and remained silent, but his heart was filled with turbulent emotions.

The Duke's ambitions extend far beyond imperial power... He desires an existence that surpasses even the divine!

The candlelight flickered, casting danced shadows on the wall, making the shadow of the hanging giant sword resemble a dragon soaring into the sky, its scales and claws flashing, as if it were about to burst forth from the wall. A storm powerful enough to overthrow six kingdoms and tear apart divine and royal authority was quietly brewing in this tranquil and picturesque Northern Palace City—silent, yet already brimming with thunder.

After Jer bowed and withdrew, only Odin remained in the hall.

He slowly walked back to the window and looked up at the moon. The moonlight tonight was cold and clear, like a silver veil covering the ground, just like that snowy night many years ago—it was just as quiet, just as cold.

He closed his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly, his voice so soft it was almost carried away by the wind, yet filled with a deep-seated pain and tenderness: "Alice... I will build this world into a perfect one—so that what happened to you will never be repeated."

As soon as he finished speaking, he opened his eyes.

In that instant, a rare expression appeared in the eyes of the "Invincible Duke," the leader of the Seven Stars who terrified six kingdoms and was feared by the Papacy—the eyes of a loving father, soft, sorrowful, yet as firm as a rock. It was as if, beneath the iron fist and intrigue, there was still a pure land untouched by the flames of war, existing solely for one person.

The moonlight shone on his silver hair and also illuminated a very faint tear stain at the corner of his eye—so fast it was almost invisible, yet it was real.

Outside the window, an owl swooped through the treetops, letting out a short cry before disappearing into the darkness.

......

The gates of Ironcrown Fortress slowly opened in the morning light, the bronze axle emitting a deep, dragon-like roar. Shen Mo, Hua Tianyou, and Albert rode in, with rolling sand dunes behind them, but a completely different world ahead.

From the moment they stepped into the territory of the Tsarist Empire, the three of them traveled without any obstacles.

In every city I passed through, I saw clean streets and alleys, bustling markets, orderly fields, and crisscrossing ditches; children playing by the roadside, and the elderly basking in the sun under the eaves.

Occasionally, patrolling guards would pass by, but they would not disturb the people, only nodding in greeting. Even the post station staff were neatly dressed and spoke humbly, showing none of the coarseness often associated with border regions.

Shen Mo rode his bicycle in silence, his gaze sweeping over the peaceful scene before him—granaries overflowing, merchants and travelers coming and going, and even beggars rarely seen on the roadside.

A surge of emotion welled up within him: he had initially thought the "Invincible Duke" was merely a military man who suppressed the world with force. Yet, he had never imagined that his rule would be so clear-minded and orderly... This could not have been achieved through tyranny, nor could authoritarianism last. If he had not truly understood the people's plight and made good use of talented individuals, how could the Tsarist Empire have achieved such a peaceful and prosperous life for its people?

The "Invincible Duke" is not only exceptionally skilled in martial arts, but also possesses unparalleled wisdom in governing a country. If his purpose in coming here is merely for revenge, it may be difficult to shake his foundation.

As he was pondering this, an extremely subtle aura, like a spider's thread, brushed across his sea of ​​consciousness.

The aura was so weak it was almost nonexistent—like a flickering candle in the wind, or an ant crawling on the sand. If Shen Mo's realm had not already transcended the mortal realm, it would have been absolutely impossible to detect.

Hua Tianyou frowned slightly, as if sensing something, but ultimately couldn't pinpoint the source; Albert, on the other hand, was completely oblivious, still pointing enthusiastically to a school in the distance, and said with a smile, "Mr. Hua, look, that's the academy that was established in every territory under the promotion of the Invincible Duke, where everyone can attend for free, regardless of their background..."

"We're being followed." Shen Mo suddenly interrupted in a low voice, as soft as a whisper, yet every word was clear. "The aura is extremely faint, but the direction is clear—it's just six hundred paces behind us, on the third floor of the Southeast Wine Shop."

Hua Tianyou's pupils contracted slightly, and Albert's spine tensed instantly.

"Don't look back, don't stop." Shen Mo's tone was calm as usual, and there was even a slight smile on his lips, as if he were still chatting about romance. "The three of us will split up first. We'll meet up at the north exit of the city in half an hour."

Hua Tianyou and Albert exchanged a glance and immediately understood. The two then split up and continued chatting and laughing as usual, even deliberately slowing down to attract attention.

Shen Mo slowly walked into the crowd, his black robe blending into the bustling city. His figure turned several times before disappearing into the depths of a narrow alley.

In the distance, the rooftop of a liquor store.

A dark figure lurked behind the roof tiles, his mask gleaming with a cold silver luster in the sunlight—it was the Vatican's Inquisitor, "Faceless."